


The Christmas Present

by betula134



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Belly Kink, Established Relationship, Fluff, Future Fic, M/M, Overweight, Santa Kink, Stuffing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-20 04:31:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13139109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/betula134/pseuds/betula134
Summary: Mikko's spouse volunteers him to play Santa at the team's private Christmas party. Both of them enjoy it a bit too much.





	The Christmas Present

**Author's Note:**

> Sequel to [The Birthday Present](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12673314)

Mikael's sudden scream and anxious panting woke Mikko up. "Are you all right?"

"I dreamt you died in the accident, I saw your body, all broken and bloody and..." Mikael sniffled.

"It's been five years. I'm here, in our bed, right next to you. Is that why you have the big circles under your eyes? Did you have this nightmare every night for the entire roadie?"

"Yes. And you weren't next to me when I woke up, and I couldn't sleep again."

Mikko had been sleeping on his back. He put out his left arm. "See, this is the arm I broke in the accident. It's here, all healed now. Roll yourself over here and I'll cuddle you, and you can get some sleep. You've got a busy day ahead with practice and the Christmas party. If you wake up and I'm not here, I'm in the kitchen, all right? My spot in the bed will still be warm."

Mikael rolled over onto Mikko's arm, and he bent his elbow; Mikael moved closer and snuggled into him, as Mikko turned on his side.

"Sleep, love, it will soon be morning. I have you."

  


Mikko awakened before Mikael, who had rolled away from him sometime in the night and was gently snoring with his head on his own pillow. He was worried that Mikael was coming down with a cold. There would have to be hot soup of some sort for dinner tomorrow. Every time the team went on a road trip, Mikael picked up something. It was only turnabout; when Mikko was an active player he was constantly sniffling and having some sort of cold going on. He left the house so rarely these days that his illness exposure only came via Mikael.

He sat on the edge of the bed and put on his fuzzy brown bear paw slippers. On his way back from out of the bathroom, he took the matching brown robe with the fake fur collar off the hook on the door and put it on over his pajamas. Mikael always said he was grumpy, like a bear, in the mornings before his mandatory coffee intake, and the grumpy bear was making his way down to the kitchen to make breakfast. Mikko had thought the grumpy bear in the old cartoon was blue, but he wasn't about to argue about a lovingly intended Christmas gift like that; and he doubted that anyone made blue bear-paw slippers, anyway.

Mikael usually made his way down to the breakfast table right in time to be served. Mikko had made and drunk enough coffee by then to be a normal bear instead of a grumpy one. Mikael, on the other hand, hadn't had coffee yet by that time, and was grumpy himself until about ten minutes after the first cup. That morning they ate in silence until he was sure that Mikael wouldn't bite his head off.

"So you're coming back to get me after practice, right? And you are sure that everything in this surprise Santa suit you ordered for me is in place?"

"You're the guest of honor for this Christmas party. Of course everything is there. And I have my elf outfit, too, and we're going early so this makeup artist I found will have enough time to get both of us ready. You did look at her portfolio, didn't you?"

"All those weird cosplay things, yes. She's very good, but very young. Are you sure she can do this?"

"I'm sure, and it's not like we're going to make a habit of this if you don't like it. Now I feel like I shouldn't have volunteered you for this."

"I feel guilty about not being out with the other players' partners. But we're still so quiet about the relationship, and you know I don't like to leave the house, but this little thing we are doing for the team party seems like something I need to do."

"Well, the guys who played with you still miss you, and even if some people don't seem to want to accept our invitations here they do seem to want to see you on neutral ground."

"I don't think they're going to see much of me. What they are going to see is me in a Santa suit and trying not to break character." Mikko frowned.

"Santa and you will have the same bizarre sense of humor, so the adults will definitely know it's you in there."

"Yes, and they will hear the accent, and then everyone else will know it's me."

"The kids who still want to believe in Santa don't pay any attention to what you sound like when they're over here; you're just another adult saying boring stuff."

"I hope so. And we need to stop talking, or you're going to be late for practice and that is not a good way to start the day."

  


Mikko saw Mikael off in the mud room. Mikael tiptoed up to kiss him, a little coffee-flavored peck.

"If I kiss you any more, you big bear, I will definitely be late for practice as I won't be able to stop."

Mikko hugged him tightly. "But you need the bear hug before you leave. Every morning."

"I can't live without it, yes. And I'll give you one back on my return."

"Go get 'em, little bear."

"Always!" Mikael disappeared into the garage, and he went back upstairs to get ready for the rest of his day.

  


Mikko passed by the big mirror backing the sinks in the master bathroom on his way to the shower, sneaking a peek at himself as he shed his robe and pajamas. He liked what he saw. He had put a lot of hard work into getting his body this way, big and soft and round and twice the weight he was when he was forced to retire, with a little extra added on for good measure. He had noticed how much Mikael had liked his body once he started putting on weight and he had started to like his body this way too. Mikael hadn't been able to keep his hands off him since then, and the bigger he got the more amorous Mikael got. It was a surprise but it was certainly a pleasant one.

He knew he wouldn't be happy any much smaller than this, but he then realized he wouldn't be happy much bigger either. After five years, his body was just about perfect.

The house was just about perfect for them after five years too. The old bed had finally had enough, and they purchased another with a mattress and reinforced frame that could stand up to both his weight and their vigorous and frequent lovemaking. He had a new oversized recliner in the den that fit him comfortably, and a marvelous chaise longue on the sun porch that fit both him and a smaller snuggly partner. They had enjoyed a lot of good times on that chaise.

The final piece of the comfort puzzle was solved with the master bathroom renovation. The soaking tub was large enough to fit both of them together, and the shower enclosure was also built to fit two, even if one of the two happened to be quite large. Mikko loved the new shower, especially the wide seat. It was better when he could share it, and far more fun; but Mikael was away at practice and he really needed to get ready for the party, so his remaining sitting there getting soaked and stroking himself to thoughts of his husband instead of getting clean was counterproductive. Besides, he had no doubt that they would be in here that night together. He touched the wedding ring on a chain that never left his neck. The inside was engraved with their initials and their wedding date, 2018.01.31; the outside was engraved with the phrase _You and no other_. There had been no other for him since May of 2011, and no matter what happened next, he knew that there never would be another. He did not give his heart lightly, and when he did it was given for keeps.

Once he finished his shower, he picked up his discarded nightclothes and put them in the hamper, hung up the robe, and went to the closet to get dressed. He saw no reason to be sloppy in his clothing, despite his not leaving the house often. He dressed as formally as he could for whatever task he was doing in the house, even when cleaning it. He was not ever going to be one of those fat guys in sweatpants. What he was today was a fat guy in a button-down dress shirt, slacks held up by rainbow suspenders, and a brown cardigan that he should really have replaced because it was too small. When he wore it, it stretched tautly across his belly and the spaces between the buttons gaped. However, it drove Mikael to a state of distraction whenever he wore it and he always enjoyed that reaction. It probably was a bad choice for today, considering they wouldn't have time for sex when Mikael got home from practice; but if it kept the idea of it fresh in their minds for when they returned home it wouldn't be such a bad thing.

Mikko went downstairs to the kitchen to read the good old analog Sunday newspaper and have some more coffee and perhaps a little bit of the coffee cake he had made the previous day. Mikael would have eaten lunch at the practice facility. He should eat lunch, but sometimes he got too wrapped up in the paper to get around to it on Sundays. It was easier for him to read the paper this way instead of online; he took his time and enjoyed the coffee and treats and was able to give it the time and concentration it deserved. He put down the coffee and cake as he sat down in his big comfortable dining chair, put his new little gold reading glasses on, and got to work relaxing.

He relaxed so much with the paper that he didn't notice Mikael come home from practice until he said something to him. He'd not just eaten a little bit of the cake, he had eaten the entire thing, and drank more coffee than he had intended to when he started.

"Oh, Mikko," Mikael said, "you are so much the youngest old man in the world. Sitting there wearing round gold reading glasses, with a paper newspaper, and wearing a cardigan. Wait, is it _that_ cardigan?"

"Of course it is, I know how much you like it. And I thought you liked being married to the youngest old man in the world."

"I do, but why does he have to turn me on so much when he knows we need to get going to the Christmas party?" Mikael bent down and kissed him. "You taste sweet. Did you eat all the coffee cake again?"

"Do I need to state the obvious?"

"No, the evidence is right here all over the table now that I look at it." Mikael patted him on the belly. "Training for Santa, hmm?"

"I don't need to do much training for that. Are the suits in the car?" Mikko folded the paper up and began to clear the table.

"Of course they are, and our makeup artist will be at the venue soon, which means we really do need to get there. Have you packed the gift boxes full of cookies?"

"I did that last night before you got home and put them in the mud room. And you passed by the bags how many times since then and didn't notice?"

"I had you on my mind and when that happens, I don't notice a thing."

Mikko blushed. "You at least had the presence of mind to load up the costumes before coming in here."

"Yes. And here we go and I will load up the cookies and everyone will get their tin full of treats and be happy. And I will drive carefully enough that we do not end up with broken cookies on the way."

"Or broken us, you know." He frowned.

"I know you hate to be in cars, but it's not that long of a drive. Come on."

  


It was true, Mikko did hate to be in cars since the accident. This little drive to the event center where the Christmas party was being held was almost too much. At least Mikael was driving; he hadn't driven other than a few times when absolutely necessary within the past five years. He didn't trust himself behind the wheel any longer, although the accident had been in no way his fault. He was fearful even sitting in the passenger seat. He let the chatter of Mikael talking about practice wash over him; it let him ignore the road.

The event center was one of those sorts of places that held things like wedding ceremonies and receptions, so there was a room there, normally used for brides, where they would put on their costumes and have their makeup done. The makeup artist was already there.

"I know I'm early, but there's so much to be done," she said. "Oh, Mikael, is this your spouse?"

She stuck out her hand to Mikko. "I'm Penelope, your spouse found my portfolio online. I'm really excited to start working on you both. I hadn't realized you both were so young! I thought I'd have to do less work."

Mikael was carrying the bags with the Santa suit and elf costume. They were heavy, but he insisted on lifting them himself. "I'll get these into the room and then we'll start dressing. It shouldn't take that long, and then you can start with the goop and the paint."

He followed Mikael into the room. It was small, with a makeup chair and a screen for them to dress behind. "Mine's more complicated, I imagine. I'll dress up first, then you. Then you can wait around and watch."

Mikael handed him the garment bag with the Santa suit. "You looked nervous when Penelope introduced herself. It's okay that she knows we're married. She knows nothing about hockey and you remember looking at her portfolio, right? Her girlfriend does all the rest of the costuming work. I probably should have hired her to do the suits, but there are enough people doing Santa work already. Here you go. The next time I'll see you, you'll be halfway to Santa."

Mikko took the bag and headed behind the screen. He hung the bag up, placed his own bag down, and sat in the chair to undress. This whole Santa business had him nervous, but it was going to make some kids happy. It would be worth it.

He took out the parts of the Santa suit from the garment bag. He put on the billowy white cotton shirt first. It fit perfectly, slightly loose on his arms and chest and going right over his belly without straining. He wondered if it could be made in other colors; he'd have to order a whole closet of these for everyday wear. Next came the burgundy velvet overalls. If the shirt was a marvel, the overalls were a revelation. They were the most comfortable thing he had worn in years. His belly felt supported, but it also felt unconstrained, filling the overalls with its maximum bulk. He could work all day in overalls without having to unbutton his trousers for comfort. He'd have to have some more ordinary ones made up as soon as possible.

He sat down and pulled on the wide-calf black boots with the fur tops. The boots were the complete opposite of the clothing up top, but he liked the way they looked with the rest of the outfit. The Santa coat would have to wait until the special effects makeup job was complete; he would overheat if he sat with it on while it was done.

Mikko came out from behind the screen and headed over to the makeup chair. Penelope was waiting for him. Mikael was going to go change into his elf costume, but stopped in his tracks once he saw him.

"You look great," Mikael said, blushing.

"Thanks. I feel great."

"You're going to be a perfect Santa Claus," Penelope said. "As soon as we finish this makeup, that is."

"And I see a lot of it there."

"Uh-huh. What I'm going to do first is some old age effects; a more wrinkled forehead and a bit of crow's feet around your eyes. Your mouth is going to be covered by the moustache and the beard so I won't need to do anything there. You have nice pink cheeks but I want to add some blush and highlighter to make them pinker and to accentuate the roundness. Then I'll work on the facial hair. Some white old man eyebrows, and then sideburns, and moustache, and beard. We're going to make this look as natural as possible. After all that's done, you'll put the coat on, and then I'll put the wig and hat on you to complete the look."

"All this work for a couple of hours of sitting."

"But the kids are never going to forget it. And I'm going to have another set of makeup pictures to put in my portfolio."

After what seemed like hours, and probably was, Penelope had finished with the facial makeup. "I'd hand you a mirror, but the full effect of the makeup is only going to show itself when the costuming is done."

Mikko looked down at himself. A long, full white wavy beard covered most of his chest; its tips rested atop his belly. It looked real and felt real to his tentative touch.

"I'll gently lift that out of the way while you get your coat on," Penelope said. "It shouldn't come off, but you don't want to risk it."

He put the heavy coat on. It fit him like he was born--or made--to wear it. Next came the thick leather belt with the enormous gold buckle. The belt rested right atop the fullest part of his belly.

"I think this costume is missing something." He went behind the screen and found his reading glasses in his bag. He put them on, perching them nearly at the end of his nose.

"I think you're right. That was the perfect touch. Now, sit back down and let me put on the wig."

He sat as ordered and waited for Penelope to put the last touches on his hair. He took the hand mirror she offered him and took his first look at his new face. He really did see Santa staring back at him, an elderly man with a jolly face and a smile visible even through the thicket of hair surrounding his mouth.

Penelope placed the hat on his head and pinned it to his wig. "You're done. Stand up and let me take some pictures of you. Then you can see what you look like."

He looked at the viewscreen of the camera when she was done and scrolled through the pictures. He could hardly believe his transformation. Yet, all of it seemed appropriate somehow. Was this the way he was going to look in thirty years? If so, he wouldn't mind a bit.

Mikael came in. He had been taking the bags of gift tins out of the car. "Oh, good, you're done, then they can start working on me."

"Makeup for you too?"

"Can't ruin the kids' time by them recognizing who Santa and his helper are. I've even made up an elf-voice," he said in a high-pitched tone.

"And most of them don't remember me."

"I couldn't recognize you with all the makeup on and I see you almost every day." Mikael followed up in Finnish, presumably so Penelope wouldn't understand. "I didn't think Santa Claus was supposed to be sexy. I think it's just because I know it's you."

"I'm feeling the same way, so something is up."

"Maybe because I know what's underneath the coat. You looked amazingly attractive in that outfit."

Penelope laughed. "I may not know what you're saying to each other, but whatever it did, keep it up, because that is one happy Santa I see."

"You should try out the Santa laugh," Mikael said.

Mikko let out the ho, ho, ho deep from his diaphragm. His belly indeed shook like the proverbial bowlful of jelly. "This is kind of scary, how perfect it is."

Penelope nodded. "I hope it works on the kids."

"It worked on both of you! I hope you're harder to fool than children!" He sat down and waited for Penelope to finish Mikael's makeup.

Mikael's transformation into Santa's helper elf was far less drastic. He was clad in tights and a green velvet tunic; to give him a more middle-aged appearance, he was wearing padding that gave him a small paunch. His aging makeup was less drastic with only slight wrinkles at the corners of his eyes and mouth; a few white streaks had been put into his normal floppy blond hair. Mikko thought that if Mikael looked like that in thirty years, that he would be incredibly lucky and still incredibly handsome. The only thing that spoiled the look was the elf makeup itself, a set of pointy ears and a turned-up nose. Mikko supposed the look would grow on him after a while, and the ears did go with Mikael's hair. The green leather-look slippers with the giant curl at the end were a definite no, but were worthy of being worn by Santa's most favorite helper.

He also noticed that Mikael was wearing his wedding ring on his hand today instead of on a chain. "Are you trying to discourage those who may lust after Santa's elves by wearing your ring?"

"No, I'm trying to encourage people to remember that we are indeed married. And since this is just for the team, nobody will be asking any silly questions. They know who you are."

"I'm afraid that most of them know who I am, despite the roster turnover."

"You're rather unforgettable." Mikael patted him on the back. "It's about time for us to make our appearance out there. I'll go out there and get the information from the kids and parents waiting in line and then you'll come out in about twenty minutes. I'll get you when it's ready."

Mikko chatted with Penelope while he waited for Mikael to perform the information-gathering mission. He was out there to find out the kids' names, what they wanted, and if they thought they were seeing the real Santa or just one of his many "helpers." It was a good thing Mikko remembered the reading glasses. Mikael was writing things down because there were just too many children. One could have been too many for all Mikko knew.

Mikael finally came in to get him. The area they had set aside for Santa in the banquet hall was nicely decorated with a few fake Christmas trees and a big, throne-like chair for Santa that had enough room for him and a child on both sides. They had put a lot of work into this Christmas party. No wonder they had started organizing it in September. There were about fifteen children, ranging in age from babies to about eight or nine. Mikko assumed the babies were there for the picture opportunity only, but there were enough of them whom he'd actually have to talk to. He only recognized a few from when their parents had been over for dinner.

Mikael handed Mikko a rolled up scroll and said in Finnish, "Here's your list. Don't worry much if a kid looks at it, because even if they can read none of them read Finnish so the only thing they will recognize is their names. Just say it's the 'nice list' if they do."

Mikko nodded. "Go be an elf. You should probably let the babies come first so they can get their pictures taken and they won't get cranky."

Mikael followed orders and started getting the kids to line up in order of age. The first batch went quickly because the babies and toddlers were non-verbal and in fact were just up there to get their pictures with Santa. There were no meltdowns and there were plenty of cute small children for Mikko to coo over.

The preschoolers were worse. One had a definite "scared of Santa" freakout, one was fine with Santa but was disturbed by Mikael the elf, and the rest were too awestruck to communicate much. One of them, a child he had met previously, gave both him and Mikael very odd and calculating looks but failed to determine their civilian identities.

There were a few older kids left. Mikko had to heavily deploy the list for the first one of these. He pushed up his glasses to read it. Why did Mikael have to write so small? And so messily? "Ah, James," he said to the child. "You are definitely on the nice list."

"Why do you talk so strange? I thought Santa was from Canada." James asked.

Mikko frowned. "Well, I am from Finland, and everyone should know that is the true home of Santa Claus, beyond the Arctic Circle. I have a workshop there and need to return there soon. Maybe someday you will be able to visit, and meet the reindeer, and see the northern lights."

James's face lit up. "You have a real workshop that we can visit? That's amazing!"

Mikko hadn't actually visited any of the tourist junk that they had in Rovaniemi, but he was sure it existed. He was probably describing it incorrectly, but the chance this kid's parents would visit Finland when he was still in Santa-believing age and also visit somewhere that wasn't Helsinki or a hockey rink were pretty low. "Santa is in the amazing business. Wonders and marvels and the magic of Christmas."

"Are we going to get more snow?"

"I bring toys, not weather. So your letter to me, it said you wanted a new hockey stick, is that right?"

"Yes, I do. And new skates."

"Well, I will take that in mind. You are getting bigger feet, huh?"

James shook his dangling feet. "Yup."

"Don't forget to tell your parents, too, about the big feet." Mikko handed him a candy cane as the kid leapt off the chair. "Merry Christmas."

Zach Parise's kids were last in line and went through it quickly.

"Hi, Mikko. We know you're not Santa," one whispered in his ear.

"Mikael is out there in that elf suit talking funny. He can fool the little kids, but he can't fool us," the other whispered in his other ear. "Besides, we already know there's no Santa, but our parents don't know that."

Mikko grinned, let their mom take the picture, and shooed them off the vicinity of his lap. "Smart asses," he whispered at Mikael.

"I think they may have heard that," Mikael said.

"I don't care, both you and me and their parents already know that. They're not fooling their parents, either, that's always about the age where you already know but keep up the pretense just to see if you get double the gifts."

Mikael let out a sigh. "I don't know about you, but I am worn out. Let's just make our way around the tables and say good night. I checked with Penelope on how to get this makeup off and we can do it ourselves. I'm not going to get changed and then stay around for about a half-hour before we both get tired."

"I agree. And you see these people constantly. I'm not even sure what to say to them."

"'Season's Greetings' probably works. Especially with you still in the Santa suit."

Mikko nodded as he got up from Santa's chair. "And plenty of ho, ho, ho."

  


They were more awake when they drove home. The idea of getting out of there and going home to their nice cozy house seemed to perk them up.

Mikael took a quick glance at Mikko and then returned his gaze to the road. "I meant what I said in there. I liked how you look. I like it a lot. You look fine old."

"So do you, really. Not so much looking fine as elf, but I got used to it."

"Well, you won't get elf except at Christmas, so that's all right with me."

"And you won't get this except at Christmas, either. I definitely want to do this next year. I had a lot of fun." Mikko was surprised he said this, but it was true. The Santa experience had been fun.

"Even though we left early?"

"Yes, even though we left early. I feel we rather had to. I haven't been around that many people for a long time."

"It was awesome, wasn't it? And I'll be honest, I don't like that many people around either. You can't really talk to anyone, and all that noise and all those kids running around."

"I'll stick to other people's kids, if that's no problem. I know, we've discussed this before, but I want to be absolutely sure."

"I'm sure. I like being able to do whatever we want, whenever we want."

"And once you retire, we'll be able to do even more of it."

Mikael looked thoughtful. "I should have told you this earlier, but I thought you may have been offended by it at the time it happened but now I think you'd probably find it funny. You probably would have found it funny then."

"Oh, there is a story here. And I want to hear it."

"So right after the new neighbors moved in this summer, I was out in the backyard looking at what you had said was going on with one of the trees--that weird branch, remember--and Julie was out there and obviously wanted to make some small talk, and what she had wanted to talk about was you. Mostly, as I remember, why such a young man as myself and such an old man as yourself were together."

"Well, I know that you have said to me that I am thirty-nine going on seventy, but you also said that is why you find me so attractive, so what is the problem?"

"She didn't think I was as old as thirty, and she definitely did not think you were as young as thirty-nine. Somewhere in your late fifties, and keeping a young, fresh blossom just out of his teens."

Mikko started laughing. "Oh, and did you set her straight or did you just lead her to believe that?"

"Mikko, doing that is something that you would do. I didn't do that. I did not tell her the actual difference between our ages, only that we are both in our thirties and we met during our military service. A bit blurring of the facts, but enough to shock her at her own judgment. I also told her that your retirement happened exactly because of why it did, not because you had made enough money to be indolent around the house and be able to boss a much younger man around."

Mikko snorted. "It's the opposite. I work around the house and you frequently tell me what to do."

"I know! Isn't it delightful!"

"It is! Do you see me complaining?"

"Mikko, you are always complaining, but never about that."

  


When they arrived home, the front lights were on and the Christmas trees were lit. "I set the timer while you were getting your makeup on," Mikael explained. "I thought we'd like to see this when we got home, getting us into the Christmas mood."

"It does. I'm going to head off to the den and relax for a bit before I take this face mess off."

"I'll join you there, but I've got some things to do first."

"All right." Mikko lumbered towards the den while Mikael headed for the kitchen.

When Mikko arrived at the den, he was hot. The outer layer of Santa gear needed to come off. He unbuckled the belt and removed it, placing it down on the sofa. The coat soon followed the belt, discarded neatly atop it. He unpinned the hat from the wig and set the hat down on the coat. He collapsed in the recliner, still dressed in the velvet overalls, and lit the gas fireplace with the remote. He had that cozy Christmas feeling right now, a week early. It didn't help that Mikael must have set the household sound system to play an instrumental holiday playlist; he heard "Sleigh Ride" softly over the speakers. He then heard Mikael's quiet footsteps behind him, putting something down on the bar counter.

"What are you up to, Mikael?" he said softly.

"Getting your surprise, Santa. Don't look. I'll be right back."

Oh, ho, so that was the game Mikael wanted to play tonight. All that sexy Santa talk from back at the party wasn't a put-on. Mikko guessed he shouldn't start on removing the wig and beard yet.

Mikael returned and set something else down on the bar, then came around to the side of the chair and placed a napkin over Mikko's beard, tucking in the ends under the straps of the overalls. Mikael was still wearing the elf outfit and makeup. "I wouldn't want to get that wonderful beard all messy yet before I've had the pleasure of stroking it."

"Messy, huh?"

Mikael placed a plate of cookies and a glass of milk on the side table. "Well, Santa, you've just came home from a busy day of pleasing children. You've taken off your coat, and you want to relax. You know that here in the States, Santa loves to relax with cookies and milk. Just have some."

Mikko had made so many cookies in the past week. Many of them had gone into the gift tins that he had distributed at the holiday party, but there were a lot left over. He had been a good boy and hadn't eaten very many of them, trying to save them for the actual holidays. Well, if he was playing Santa for Mikael, and Mikael was going to continue acting the helper elf for the night, he was going to eat them. He took the plate of about ten cookies and nibbled at them daintily, trying not to get crumbs in his moustache or uncovered beard. It was a losing battle. He drank the glass of milk as quickly as he could to wash them down. It was whole milk, the only kind he usually kept in the house; it was usually for cooking and baking, not for drinking. It tasted so good with the cookies, though.

"Is that all you're going to eat?" Mikael asked. "Santa, you usually have more of an appetite. Have some more." He had refilled the cookie plate with a mound of cookies. Mikael took the empty glass from him and filled it with more milk from a glass pitcher. "I'm keeping the milk cold for you. Drink as much as you want."

He ate the cookies less daintily this time and took pleasure in the varying tastes. He must have made at least ten kinds of cookies for the holiday baking season, and at least one baking sheet of each was left for his personal use. He had to admit that he had become an excellent baker over the past five years. This was the most wonderfully-tasting bunch of holiday cookies he had ever produced. Peppermint chocolate drops covered in powdered sugar, swirled lemon sugar cookies, anise-flavored shortbread...all of them marvelous, especially chased with the cold milk, the texture of the full-fat milk making such a contrast with the crumbliness and softness of the cookies. He hadn't noticed how many times that Mikael had kept refilling his glass and bringing him more cookies, but it had to have been quite a few. His stomach felt full and when he rubbed his belly, he could feel milk sloshing in it.

"Just one more plate and one more glass, Santa. Then you'll be done."

"Is that all, my little elf?"

Mikael looked disappointed. "That's all that's left."

He gleefully tucked into the last of the cookies and milk and then finally removed the napkin over his beard. It had been so good, but now he was not feeling so relaxed. His full belly strained against his overalls, making them uncomfortably tight. He pushed a button to make the chair recline one position back and started rubbing his belly. It was enormously round and full. He liked how it looked, but not so much how it felt.

"Mikael, can you come here and help me out?"

"Most definitely, Santa. I am your helper, after all."

"My favorite helper. Toys aren't the only thing you help me with, either. Or play with." Mikko winked.

"Of course, Santa."

"And you're going to help me in bed tonight, aren't you?"

Mikael's look of excitement was genuine. "I'm looking forward to it, Santa."

"Oh, I know you are, little elf. Come sit on my lap."

Mikael sat. "Are you going to ask me what I want for Christmas?"

"I already know. I am Santa Claus, I know what everyone wants. What I want you to do is rub my belly, like you do all the time, and make me feel relaxed."

"Oh, Santa, this is all I ever want when I'm with you. To make you feel wonderful, to tell you how gloriously handsome you are, so big and round. To know you love me and that you know I love you." Mikael's belly rubs were the best. He took his time, gently rubbing it to and fro, in circles and up and down. "You outdid yourself this time, with that gallon of milk and all those cookies. There had to be at least a hundred cookies."

"But who is counting? Oh, that feels so good, little elf, keep doing it." Mikko loved the feel of fullness in his belly and Mikael's weight on his lap. He was feeling relaxed and warm and sleepy. He wondered if Mikael was aroused. He certainly was getting there, but any sort of that lovemaking would have to wait for later. He felt too full for that, still.

"I'll do it until you tell me to stop. Your belly looks so nice in those overalls, you know. They show it off and I love it when you show your belly off, how ample and abundant you are."

Mikko blushed. Even still after this long, his husband's ardent appreciation of his body was slightly embarrassing.

"Don't be bashful! You are, and all of it just for me to enjoy. When we are done here, there's something I want more than anything."

"And what is that, my precious little elf?" If only those ears were real. He wanted to nibble their tips and make Mikael squeak in delight.

"I want a big hug. I love being nestled in your softness, all safe and protected and warm."

"Of course I will hug you. I love it when you are so close to me, that you love being so close to me, and I want to protect you and care for you and make you so happy."

It was Mikael's turn to blush. "We take care of each other. Are you feeling better? I feel your big belly getting softer and softer. Nice and cozy."

Mikko sighed in pleasure. "I most definitely am feeling better, enough so that you can stop and I can give you that big hug you wanted. Stay on my lap."

He put his arms around Mikael and drew him to his body as close as was possible. Mikael put his arms around him as much as he could in this position, and breathed deeply. He rocked Mikael back and forth in his arms. "Oh, little one, I love you so, my only love, then, now, and forever."

Mikael turned his head to kiss him, apparently intending to make it a deep kiss, but he pulled back quickly and giggled. "Oh, Mikko, your beard and moustache tickle. It's worse than that time you grew a moustache, I swear."

"Ha, so now we are back to being us, instead of playing Santa."

"Yeah. But I'm thinking about older us, like when we were driving home, and being this close to you when you look like this...you're still so attractive to me and now I'm thinking about how it's going to even work when we're thirty years older."

"We've always found a way, no matter what. Oh, Mikael, if this is how you will look at sixty, you are still going to be beautiful to me; every year since we have been together you have looked better and better to me. Don't lament that you weren't nineteen forever. For one thing, thirty-year-old you has much nicer hair."

"We all made poor choices when we were teens. I've seen enough pictures of you, what were you guys thinking back in the nineties?"

"None of us were thinking, then. And I think, now, we need to go upstairs and get this makeup off. As much as I wish you had little pointed ears and that upturned nose, you don't."

"And as much as you make the sexiest Santa I've ever seen, don't grow a real beard yet. Unless yours is much softer."

"It won't be white enough yet, anyway. Wait a few years."

"Oh, I can! But you are correct, I can't wait to get this outfit off of you. And then we can get clean together."

"Clean, and dirty, and clean?"

"As filthy as you want it, Mikko."

"Which may not be very much, right now, but perhaps after?"

Mikael had already sprung off his lap. "Anything you want, any time. Now you get up so I can chase you upstairs."

"'Chase.' You just want the rear view." He got up.

"Best view in the house." Mikael swatted him on the ass. "Now get going, you big grumpy bear."

**Author's Note:**

> This was a holiday gift for an anon who enjoyed the first one. Thanks for being so encouraging, nonny!


End file.
